


Strange New Ways

by LittleSpacePrince



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Will Graham, Digital Art, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, NSFW Art, Nipple Play, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 10:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17041649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpacePrince/pseuds/LittleSpacePrince
Summary: It was what he had dreamed of, what he had ached for for far too long. They were intertwined, souls bound by fate, brought together by the hands of gods, love forged within the depths of hell. They were bound by something cosmic, gods among men, and such interlocked spirituality finally manifested in sweat and desperation.





	Strange New Ways

**Author's Note:**

> SOMEONE CALLED PORN DAY AND NOW I'M WRITING AS MUCH AS I CAN

“Would you allow me to touch you?” 

His words came out soft and aching, desire clinging to his tongue. A question, an aching, a longing that had been twitching at his lips since their fall, since they’d regained enough strength to even broach the subject of sex. 

There were kisses exchanged every now and again, quick and soft and very nearly chaste. Hannibal touched him like he was fragile, as though all that they had could disintegrate beneath his fingertips if he dared hold him too tightly. But his quiet longings were coming to a head, growing desperate and hungry with every fleeting touch, every soft brush of lips or fingers, until he was very nearly ravenous. 

Will had been waiting for him to ask such a question. Since his eyes opened on the beach, since the first gasps of breath burned inside of saltwater lungs, since the first kiss burned hot against the sand of the coast, he had wanted it. But he didn’t dare broach the subject, for fear of his own desires. But if Hannibal were to ask… 

It was dark, kisses and conversation exchanged sleepily in their shared bedroom. Conversation was easy. Just as pretentious as it had always been, though there was a softer quality to it these days. Such glorious transformation in the fall from the bluff had inspired some softer quality in Hannibal. No longer did fangs sink into his flesh to drain the blood from his veins, but such vicious teeth were replaced with soft nips and light bruises against the neck to mark him gently. 

And that was when Hannibal finally asked. 

“I’ve never been with another man,” Will confessed, a hand reaching up to press against his cheek, tracing over the scars that marked his face. 

“Would you be open to such an idea?” 

He paused for only a moment, not to ponder the question in itself, but to marvel at Hannibal’s uncertainty. The man who walked the earth like a god now lay asking questions with the most obvious of answers, unsure of himself. 

“Of course.” 

Hannibal smiled, warm and genuine and excited as he claimed his lips again. Strong hands rolled them both over, pinning him to the bed, bodies tumbling damn near naked on red satin sheets. Will absently wondered what it might feel like to have Hannibal over him, inside of him, pounding into his hole as he rubbed himself against these sheets. 

The idea caused his breath to hitch. He’d been curious as to what it might feel like to take Hannibal Lecter inside of him, but his fantasies had never gone beyond flashes. Ideas. This… 

“I, uh… I’ve never… I’ve never taken anything, down there, I…” he stammered as Hannibal’s lips moved down his neck. 

Hannibal’s body relaxed against his own, pressing down hard against him, the lines between them growing blurred. Will could feel Hannibal’s erection through soft pajama bottoms, rubbing up against his thigh. Will could feel his own cock beginning to stiffen, aching within the cotton confines of his boxers, pressing against Hannibal’s abdomen, plain and hard and evident against him. 

“We don’t have to venture so far tonight, _mylimasis,”_ Hannibal breathed against his skin, hot against the flesh of his neck. Fingers trailed down his sides, dipping beneath the elastic of his boxers, teasing and tugging as teeth and tongue grazed his flesh. “I would be quite content to explore your body, touch you in whatever way you might allow.” 

Will couldn’t strangle the whine that escaped his throat, couldn’t find words beyond a simple nod, arms clinging tight around his shoulders. He wanted whatever Hannibal had to offer him, ached for every inch, and he would gladly fall beneath his grasp. 

Will was not a selfish man, but Hannibal certainly made him greedy. To take whatever pleasure Hannibal might offer, to devour and consume every touch, it was all incredibly selfish of him. But Hannibal seemed more than content to oblige his needy whims as his lips ventured further down.

“So beautiful, my love...” Hannibal breathed against his skin as it flushed a violent pink, such silent, wondrous humiliation hidden only by the cloak of shadow. But Hannibal could feel it, the heat burning against his chin as he licked at the hollow of Will’s throat. “Divine.” 

Will buried his face into the crook of his elbow, such praises drawing heat to his face, such worship leaving him bashful. He knew Hannibal’s reverence, but never so intimately, never like this. “Shut up,” he said, voice coming out somewhere between a laugh and a squeak. 

Hannibal let out a soft chuckle, but opted for obedience this time. There were better things to be doing with his lips than speaking, he supposed. His tongue found its way down the center of Will’s chest, following his quickening heartbeat before finding Will’s nipple and taking it lightly between his teeth. 

Will let out a sharp gasp, back arching as he leaned into his touch. It was more than what he could have anticipated, such sensitive spots having gone long neglected. Hannibal’s mouth sealed around the nipple, suckling wet and hot, teeth nipping lightly at the edges. Will’s hands found their way to Hannibal’s hair, tugging hard as his lips sucked harder, each flick of his tongue going straight to Will’s cock, hard and leaking in his boxers. 

He felt like a virgin again, squirming and writhing and desperate beneath the scrutiny of tongue and teeth. Whines and pleas fell from his lips, hushed and fervent as his head filled with heat, fevered in his longing and arousal. 

Hannibal always had the capacity for great cruelty, but since their fall, he had learned to opt against sweet torture. Perhaps such violent tendencies and violent delights would find their way into their sex life, and perhaps Will would let it. Maybe he would let the bruises stain his flesh and his blood stain the sheets. Maybe he would let Hannibal tie him up and torture him for hours on end without letting him come. Maybe he would repay the favor, grant Hannibal the reckoning he had once promised. 

But for now, Hannibal obeyed, and moved downward. 

Will squirmed, letting out a whine. It wasn’t that he was trying to get away, no, quite the opposite. He simply wasn’t close enough. His hands felt empty, devoid of contact they grasped at nothing. He was exposed, laid open, feasted upon by itching teeth. He couldn’t help but feel like one of Hannibal’s meals, to be laid out, presented, and devoured. Why that made his cock twitch, he wasn’t sure, but the thought shot like lightning, pulling a whine from the depths of his soul. 

His vision blurred and eyes rolled back as he struggled to maintain focus, wanting to watch what was being done to him. Will hardly lacked this much composure, pleas and whines rarely falling so unrestrained, but Hannibal had a hold on him like none other. His breathing hitched as Hannibal buried his face into his stomach, pressing fervent little kisses to the skin as he slowly kissed his way down. He licked and sucked at Will’s hip bones, running a thumb over the ridge of bone where it jutted from Will’s skin. “Magnificent, my love… Exquisite,” he murmured. 

His fingers buried beneath the waistband of his boxers and finally tugged them aside, pulling Will’s legs up before allowing them to fall. He felt open, exposed, vulnerable, all too pliant beneath the command of Hannibal’s hands. His mind was swimming, threatening to drown as he succumbed to Hannibal’s teasing. 

When he reached Will’s cock, however, steadily leaking all over itself, his teasing and soft torment was abandoned for the sake of swallowing him down whole. His eyes found Will’s for only a moment before Will shouted his pleasure, ringing through the walls of their home. He’d received pleasure in this way before, had gotten sucked off before, but it had never reduced him to shouting. It had never reduced him to such jerky thrusts up into Hannibal’s mouth, cock nudging against the back of his throat before he finally regained his composure with insistent apologies. Hannibal hadn’t gagged or choked once, however, riding the undulations of his lover’s hips with surprising aplomb. 

He pulled off with an audible pop, filthy in the otherwise silent room. Sweat beaded against his forehead as Will fell limp against the bed, chest heaving as he struggled to cling to what composure he had left. Hannibal’s hands sprawled against the plain of his stomach, warm hands steadying his breathing. 

“It’s alright, Will. It’s been quite some time for both of us. Composure is unnecessary,” he murmured, returning his attentions to Will’s cock. He ran his tongue up the underside of it before sucking on the head and bestowing upon it the same treatment he had given Will’s nipples. Will fisted his hands in the sheets and his toes curled in pleasure as he gasped. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. 

He hadn’t so much as touched himself in months, not since before the fall. His pleasure had been confined to a handful of fitful wet dreams, dreams of Hannibal’s hands over his body, dreams of tongue and fingers and teeth… As he returned to such fantasies beneath the sweeping of Hannibal’s tongue, he vaguely registered the tight draw of his balls, and that he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. 

“Sit up, my love,” Hannibal coaxed, drawing him out of his own head as his lips moved away from his weeping cock. “I want to feel you.” 

Will obeyed, if for nothing more than the cold, and the longing for such tight heat around his cock again. He allowed for Hannibal to guide him into place, falling back between his legs as Hannibal took his place behind him, arms wrapped around him. 

Hannibal lined up his own cock to the small of Will’s back and slowly began to thrust. Will’s breath hitched at such a curious feeling, the slippery head of his cock leaving a wet line down his spine, marking him in strange new ways. 

He let out a sharp cry as Hannibal’s hand found his cock again, stroking in time with his thrusts. The hands of a musician, stringing him out and playing him, drawing such beautiful sounds from his lips. He could feel Hannibal’s heaving chest, hear the panting breaths against his ear as he drew closer to his own climax. Such beautiful synchronicity left lights behind his eyelids, clinging to the sheets beneath him. 

It was what he had dreamed of, what he had ached for for far too long. They were intertwined, souls bound by fate, brought together by the hands of gods, love forged within the depths of hell. They were bound by something cosmic, gods among men, and such interlocked spirituality finally manifested in sweat and desperation. 

“Come for me, _mylimasis,”_ Hannibal breathed. 

And Will obeyed. 

His cock twitched, throbbing in Hannibal’s hand as hot, white fluid splattered against his chest. He seized, head thrown back and voice ringing out as he fell hard against Hannibal’s chest, vision blurring white around the edges before he fell limp within his arms. 

He faintly registered Hannibal’s quiet groans against his ears, and the throb and twitch of his cock against his back, his seed against his back. Will let out a soft sigh, leaning back against him in the afterglow. 

“Everything I’ve longed for,” Hannibal breathed. “All I’ve ever dreamed of, for so long now, _mylimasis._ You’re so beautiful, my love. Crafted by the hands of gods.” 

Will let a small laugh escape his throat. It had all been strange, and new, leaving him marked and touched in some new way. Not left with a smile in the form of a scar against his abdomen, or left standing drenched in blood in the moonlight. He was marked now in sweat and come, hazy in the aftermath of orgasm. It was intimate in ways that didn’t hurt, torture of the sweetest kind. 

“How long have you been dreaming of that?” 

Hannibal smiled against his neck, pressing another kiss against the place where neck meets shoulder, holding him tight against his chest, sitting in the mess that they had made. His arms curled tighter, fingers grazing gently down his throat. 

“Since I first smelled that atrocious aftershave,” Hannibal confessed with a small chuckle. 

Will sighed, and smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> Gimme some love for this shitty fic. The fic might have been garbage but the art took forever.


End file.
